Dear Chuck

The small acts of kindness from people, even those you may not know well, provide a lasting impression.  I’ve been thinking of one particular person lately – Chuck.

Chuck was the copy machine service man for our office.  We only saw him when we were experiencing a problem with the copier or scanner.  I received a message from his supervisor on January 5th saying that he suddenly passed away.

Specifically the note said:

“It is with sadness that I am emailing to inform you of a change in Service Technicians. Chuck C., age 65, passed away Monday, December 29, 2014. Services were held on Friday, January 2, 2015.”

My mouth dropped and my heart sank.  Tears began to quickly form in my eyes.

Why?  I barely knew Chuck.  I don’t even know his last name.

Yet I thought about how kind, friendly and happy he seemed at each of his visits to our office.   No matter how annoyed or frazzled any of us became when we desperately needed the copier to work, Chuck was even-tempered and helpful.  He smiled and solved the issue.  He whistled and performed his role with dignity.

No details were given about how or why Chuck died in the written note.  I contacted his supervisor to learn more.

His boss revealed that Chuck was working in their downtown office three days before New Year’s.  He experienced a massive heart attack.  He passed away before emergency personnel even arrived.  I wonder if he laid still next to the copy machine he knew the insides of so well.

I thought about my family – my husband and two daughters.  I felt overcome with love and appreciation for them and our time together.  We had recently spent two weeks at home over Christmas and New Year’s, more family time than we had been able to experience in a long while.  The forced time with each other gave us the chance to reconnect and even put more fun into our usual routine.  With no set schedule, deadlines, homework, piano lessons or swim classes, we were free to just be us.  We relaxed.  We had picnics.  We watched movies and read books.  We lived fully.

On January 6th, I had returned to work feeling rejuvenated, more joyful than ever and ready to tackle 2015 with vigor and determination.  The email about Chuck was one of the first notes I read sitting in my desk chair.  It caught me off-guard.  Odd as it may be, his death greatly affected me.

I continue to keep his persona and the event of his death in the back of my brain.  I even find myself saying, “Dear Chuck,” or “What Would Chuck Do?”  I won’t have any bumper stickers made, I promise….

No, Chuck simply reminds me to slow down a bit.  I stop, take a deep breath and assess the situation with a clear head.  What’s important?  What has to be done?  What should be done first?  What can wait?  Do that.  Then tackle the next thing.

I think of Chuck and remember to thank the grocery store clerk for being gracious.  I thank the janitor for inquiring if we need extra help.  I stop myself from raising my voice at my toddler.  Instead I hug her tightly explaining her why she should listen to me for both safety and practical reasons.

I reflect back on other first-name folks or even no-name faces that have made an impact in my life.  I fondly remember a female foreigner who carried an umbrella over my head one rainy day as I walked across a parking lot to my car.  She spoke very little English and insisted I stay dry.  I was eight months pregnant with my second child–belly in full bulge mode.  She insisted so I let her.  I was smiling and giggling the whole time, feeling like royalty.  I believe she even called me a queen in her broken English accent.

Those acts of generosity and those people who deliver them, let’s remember and honor them. Dear Chuck, I won’t forget you!